


Not The Girl (That I Intend To Be)

by cuspofqueens



Series: Life Well Lived [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuspofqueens/pseuds/cuspofqueens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life after Brittany S. Pierce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Girl (That I Intend To Be)

Santana knows that the way she pulls away from Brittany is subtle, but unmistakable. For all that she and Artie talk to each other about their feelings, she must not have told him about her k. d. lang confession in the hallway; because he never looks at her any differently.

She’s grateful for that, at least.

Brittany seems to have gotten the message after the fifth time she called and Santana didn’t answer; or maybe it’s the day Santana walks in to school without her friendship bracelet on. They may only be in high school, but they’re both consummate professionals; so once they’re back on the team, their performance at Cheerios never wavers. They still sit next to each other in Glee, but it’s different. Putting your heart on the line and then watching it get trampled on will do that to a person.

And yeah, they’re only Juniors, but that’s cool, it’s good. Now is the time to start thinking about colleges, because while she may not be as vocal about it as some of her more rabid Gleeks and Cheerios, she’s getting the hell out of this town. A good education is her ticket out.

So she buckles down, assesses her grades. McKinley’s not exactly geared towards academic achievements, so while a 3.6 GPA isn’t anything to sneer at, she can do better. She has to do better.

She studies more, going back to basics when she doesn’t understand a concept and breaking it down like a Cheerios routine until she can put it back together again in her sleep.

And if she’s got the instrumental version of “Forget You” playing in the background while she studies? Well, that’s only because Miss Holiday’s bitchin’ performance has ruined her for Cee Lo’s voice.

Summer is lonely for Santana.

Oh, it won’t be for long. It’s only a few weeks reprieve until she eats, sleeps and breathes cheer and the particular brand of motivation and shine that is Sue Sylvester. She won’t have time, then, for the gaping wound inside her, the phantom pained ache in her soul for something that was never really hers to begin with. And yeah, she’s being dramatic, but fuck off, she got PMS and she’s entitled.

You try getting over the girl you’re in love with when you’re forced to see her and interact with her for over half of your day. See how well you manage to ignore the way she and her boyfriend stare longingly at each other or can’t keep their hands to themselves. Santana just counts it as a win that everybody goes home with all eyes and limbs (and tracheae) intact. She knows it’s not Artie's fault, but she can’t help hating him just a little.

It’s either that or listening to Tori Amos while she cuts herself, and her skin is just too pretty to mar.

Senior year is taken up by essays, tests and admissions applications deadlines. It’s scheduling long discussions with her father about what she wants out of life and where she’s headed. It’s layouts and back handsprings and that nasty metabolic drink she dumps out and replaces with tea when no one’s watching. The sharp pain in her chest has settled into a dull ache, but her fingers still itch at night with the memory of soft skin and long blonde hair.

Artie and Britt are still going strong, and part of Santana is relieved by that, happy by the fact that if she can’t be with her, at least their relationship is still good. Of course, the rest of her gags a little every time they smile at each other, but she’s at least _trying_ to be a better person. It’s a work in progress.

Santana gets her acceptance letter to the University of Washington the same week that Puckerman grows a pair and asks her to be his date for prom. That ship has _sailed_ , they’re friends, just friends, but they’re learning how to be closer even than that, and Santana sees the glances Puck throws at Kurt when he thinks no one is looking.

His denial is painfully familiar, but it doesn’t stop her from smirking as she struts through the hallways. Why bother? She’s on top of the world, and nothing’s going to bring her down.

The night of prom, she even manages to forget herself and dance with Brittany for a few minutes, reveling in bright blue eyes and a wildly happy smile. When she remembers why that hurts so much, she retreats and spends the rest of the night with Puckerman and Kurt, alternately hiding between them and pushing Puck at Kurt.

Then she blinks, and the next thing Santana knows, her name is being called, her diploma is in her hand, and she and the other graduating Gleeks are doing their very last performance.

It’s wildly exciting, and crazy bittersweet. They’re all separating now, and even though there’s Facebook and email and unlimited texting, it’s kind of a big deal for the small town vibe they’ve rocked their entire lives.

She leaves in three days, and she’s already got her stuff mostly packed. This is the last time she’ll stand in Finn Hudson’s ridiculous shadow (literally, Lord knows that boy could never outshine _her_ ), the last time she’ll have to listen to Berry pontificate over her future career as a Broadway Star (yeah, good luck with _that_ ), the last time she’ll be able to pop over to Kurt’s after a ridiculously stressful day and indulge in that particular brand of snark and cutting humor that brings them so close together. Quinn’s off to Ohio State at the end of the summer, but Santana knows she’ll drift back to Lima eventually. She still looks at Finn with those resigned stars in her eyes, and this is his home.

It’s not the last time Puck throws his arm around her shoulder, she won’t let it be, but it’s the last time they’ll do it here, on the McKinley football field.

She trades hugs with everybody, friendly insults and comments with these people who have run the gauntlet with her and come out the other end. She doesn’t promise to keep in touch - those that matter already know she will, they don’t need the words.

Then she turns, and there’s Brittany, beautiful Brittany, standing there uncertainly in front of her. She’s gorgeous in her cap and gown, and even the way she chews on her lower lip is still heart-meltingly adorable.

Santana can’t help but smile as she reaches out for Brittany’s hand and pulls her into a tight hug, letting her body convey the emotion she won’t express. Brittany’s arms come up around her back, cling to her shoulders, and Santana tries to find the right words to say.

What can she say? She’s not Berry or Hudson or even Quinn, to joke and laugh with like that. Brittany’s special, she always has been, even when Santana insisted they were only friends. She’s worth more than insults and reminisces, and Santana can feel her eyes burning with tears she refuses to let fall. She won’t ruin her eyeliner, there are still pictures to be taken.

Eventually, the only thing she can whisper is the only thing she wants for her best lost opportunity.

“Be happy, Britt. Whatever you do, wherever you go from here, just be happy.”

And now Brittany is crying, a choking sob sounding as she nods against Santana’s shoulder. Santana pulls back and frames Britt’s face in her hands, wipes away the streaming tears with her thumbs. Emotion wells up in her but she won’t give voice to the words inside her. There are some things she refuses to say twice.

Brittany must see it, though, because she smiles a little and covers Santana’s hands with her own, giving them a squeeze before she turns around and goes back to Artie’s side.

Three days later, Santana roars out of town.

Her 2008 Dodge Challenger is gleaming, packed to the hilt and radio blasting as she drives towards a future without Brittany in it. Her thoughts wander everywhere, and the only regret she’ll ever have from high school is not saying something sooner; but college is a new start, and the next time something like this happens to her, she’ll be ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Sara Bareilles song 'Gonna Get Over You', because I found it aptly fitting. Second in the Life Well Lived series, with thanks to ariestess for the beta. From this point on, consider everything to be both future!fic and thus AU, because if Ryan Murphy has any sense of mercy at all, he'll negate everything I write with regards to the Brittany/Santana thing eventually.


End file.
